Bryan Thao Worra

There is a famous account of Jiang Yan, an official of the Southern Dynasty. One night, he dreamt a god presented him a wondrous writing brush. From that day forward, his literary talents were beyond compare. When he grew old, the god appeared again as a dream and retrieved the brush. Jiang Yan’s writing was never as brilliant again.


Given a thousand nights,
...

Someone stole my boots from
A Phonsavan porch
Around dinner time
In the dark.
...

Maybe one day,
A page will be found,
A song will be heard,
A stroke will be drawn
...

Youa tells me a story over the hot hibachi:
How she went to Laos
To see her lucky sisters
...

We turn our dishes to
Heaven, but

What manner of dog will come running
...

Our pilot packs a Makarov
Flying into the outskirts
Of the old province capitol
Long since delivered to kingdom come.
...

Speak to me of padaek
And some poor ba ferments, pungent, chunky and spicy.
Alas, so unlikely to catch on like sriracha or sushi,
At least in this century.
...

"Dream, " I said,
"Aren't you tired of making new legends
That no one but I ever hears? "
...

From the moment I met her
She's been wiggling,
Squirming,
...

It took me by surprise that Hitler was a vegetarian.
Rudolf Hess, too.
I remember reading about them as a boy.
I remember the outrage when someone asked us to forgive them
...

Will I ever see poppies
In their natural habitat?
How red they appear in
All of these pictures beside
...

Since the 6th century B.C.,
The Buddha has said
The right perspective,
The right motive,
...

Sometimes, I want to tell you.
Laying by your side, it‟s a mystery to explain
Why I gave up my poetry for so long.
...

Goes in hot. Comes out hot.
But this may be more than the casual student
Will want to know.
...

I came to Missoula to ask him
About the inner workings of ua neeb.
To understand the symbolic significance of split horns
And spirit horses who trace their noble smoky path
...

When I go to sleep there is a distant city for a nation,
And in that city a street at night, fragrant as a frangipani.
On that street there is a house, there is a room, there is a pillow,
Soft and welcoming like a strong woman‟s smile
...

I take you to dance
In your dress of blue.
Santana‟s black magic woman is playing tonight.
...

So many days in flight, in the air or on stage
Lately, you seem half human, half bird,
Almost mythic, always beautiful and magic.
...

There‟s only a few in creation
Who read me like you.

So it goes.
...

Enter the heart and you understand.
To be jai yen, my heart cool, without worries,
I smile like a nak, a rainbow bridge, a June rain,
Trying to find a middle path I‟m happy with:
...